


Werewolf's Heart

by melisandeli



Category: Witch's Heart (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, M/M, No Smut, Supernatural Elements, i will actually die for this ship, im trying my best with the tags guys i swear, might add more tags if i need to idk, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:06:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24197947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melisandeli/pseuds/melisandeli
Summary: The room is eerily silent. Overly quiet. No one speaks up for the scrawny werewolf- and after all, why would they? He hears someone break the silence. "No one would want a feral mutt," they whisper in a hushed voice, directed to someone else, "I bet it's probably rabid."Ashe hears the other person scoff in response and barely resists the temptation to tell them to shut up.They wouldn't put him up for auction if he was that dangerous.Not only that, but the term is stray, not feral… moron.Ashe rolls his eyes.Ashe crosses his legs, resting his chin on his hand curled in a fist as he watches the werewolf on the stage. He really shouldn't, no, it'd just be a hassle, but that werewolf in that bland red hoodie… there's something in his eyes that can't be ignored, can't be passed, but no, he can't, he shouldn't, yet-"... Ten thousand."It takes Ashe a second or two to realize he was the one who spoke up.
Relationships: Wilardo Adler/Ashe Bradley
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31





	Werewolf's Heart

**Author's Note:**

> ok so uhhhh... this is my supernatural/fantasy AU fic...!!! its VERY wilashe based but i promise there's lots of lore and you'll get to meet the others too ^^"
> 
> i know my writing isn't too good and the characters may be a bit OOC as well so i'm very sorry ): i still hope you can enjoy the read though ;; please have fun!!!

Ashe is a simple creature.

Or, at least he'd hope to believe. Calm, quiet. He wears a hood when he goes outside, so no one sees his face. Others only see his soft teal braid and his body, usually, and that's how he prefers to keep it. After all, he doesn't want to be known. 

His outfits are never dramatic- black and oversized on his body, he doesn't want anyone else to notice him too much. Though he stands out of the crowd, he can still blend in scarily well if he wishes- not that he'd want to. He doesn't leave often anyways, instead staying in his nest all day. And he's fine with that, really.

If he had to describe himself, he would suppose he could even call himself… 'shy'. Ashe is most definitely a simple creature… for sure.

But maybe he wasn't the simplest- because why would he be sitting at one of those supernatural auctions? Definitely not something simple, but… he was forced into going. At least, that's his excuse.

Yet when he watches the short, weak yet feisty looking werewolf on the stage with his dark eyes full of annoyance and his messy dark blue hair with matted blood in it that reaches just to his chin and his rough, dirty red hoodie with that old looking pendant with a beautiful red circular jewel in the middle and that collar clasped tightly around his neck, Ashe can't help but cringe and wish he never came to the auction in the first place.

The room is eerily silent. Overly quiet. No one speaks up for the scrawny werewolf- and after all, why would they? He hears someone break the silence. "No one would want a feral mutt," they whisper in a hushed voice, directed to someone else, "I bet it's probably rabid."

Ashe hears the other person scoff in response and barely resists the temptation to tell them to shut up. _They wouldn't put him up for auction if he was that dangerous._ _Not only that, but the term is stray, not feral… moron._ Ashe rolls his eyes. 

Ashe crosses his legs, resting his chin on his hand curled in a fist as he watches the werewolf on the stage. He really shouldn't, no, it'd just be a hassle, but that werewolf in that bland red hoodie… there's something in his eyes that can't be ignored, can't be passed, but no, he can't, he shouldn't, yet-

"... Ten thousand."

It takes Ashe a second or two to realize he was the one who spoke up.

The room grows tense. The auctioneer speaks up, clearly shocked. "E-Eh? You'd spend that much on a mangy cur? In _that_ condition? No one in this entire room would ever want to, surely?"

Ashe smiles as he stands up. It's always easy to put on a mask. The others in the room look as if they want to back away or flee. He takes slow, gentle steps across the dark wooden floor, ignoring how the floorboards creak under his black boots. Ashe's hooded cloak flows behind him as he walks.

He steps up onto the stage and reaches the tiny werewolf, who gives him a deadpan look of apathy, yet with a hint of surprise hidden in his eyes, flicking an ear. Ashe directs his gaze over at the auctioneer. He doesn't say a word, instead reaching into his pockets and throwing a few coins. Turning around on his heel, he holds out his hand and then grasps onto the werewolf's wrist tightly, pulling him forward.

Though he hears the noises of the auctioneer's complaints behind him and he feels the werewolf harshly resist against his grip, Ashe walks back down the hall, to the doors, his newly owned werewolf forced to trail behind him. He opens the door and leaves, stepping out into the other hallway.

Ashe glances back at his werewolf, who only gives him a harsh and distant look. Yet by looking at him, Ashe can tell he's weak… though he doesn't mean it rudely. Underfed, probably, without attention for a long time- just a stray picked up from the streets. Ashe almost feels… pity, maybe? He can't pinpoint the emotion.

He doesn't know why he bought the werewolf. He doesn't know why he even spent so much money on him. He doesn't know why he even agreed to go to this auction. He doesn't know why he's so… fascinated and intrigued by this meek werewolf, without any special qualities. But- that would be a lie, because there _is_ something special about this werewolf, Ashe can tell. He just... hasn't figured it out yet.

"You can talk," comments Ashe, drawing his hand back, releasing his grip on the werewolf's wrist. "I don't mind whatever you say."

The werewolf stares, his ears perking up. He squints at Ashe and then raises a brow. "Why would you spend that much money on me?" Though his voice seems monotone and uncaring, his question comes out slightly puzzled, though his expression remains stoic.

"And why do you care?"

"... Eh?"

Ashe blinks. "Why do you care? … You have an owner. I feel as if you should be glad, maybe?"

The werewolf narrows his eyes, placing his hands in his pockets. "I don't even know your name. Haven't even seen your face."

Ashe pauses for a moment and then sighs, carefully raising his hands. He grabs onto the edges of the hood and slowly draws it back, taking it off. Ashe brushes a strand of hair back behind his ear, looking at the werewolf with curious gold eyes. "My name's Ashe. Do you want me to go in depth, or-?"

The werewolf cuts him off quick. "... Wilardo Adler. I'd prefer it if you didn't." Wilardo tugs at the collar around his neck, diverting his blank gaze. "Not sure I should be glad at all."

A hushed gasp of realization escapes Ashe as he steps forward, placing his index finger on the collar without stopping to think. Ashe immediately retracts his hand back upon feeling the unbearable heat and hearing the soft sizzle coming from his finger, choking down a hiss of pain. Drawing a deep breath in, Ashe quickly crosses his arms, trying his best to mask his pain. "So the collar's lined with silver, huh?"

Wilardo seems rather unaffected by the collar, despite the fact that the silver's probably digging into his skin and burning him as he speaks. "Yeah. Why? Not like you can take it off."

Ashe frowns before an idea pops into his head. He gives Wilardo a reluctant look, but uncrosses his arms, watching the werewolf. Hesitantly, he starts. “Do you mind if I bite it off?”

Wilardo doesn’t answer at first. He blinks once, then twice. "... You a vampire or something?"

There's quiet between them. They're both strangers, after all. Gold eyes meet black ones, though no one speaks for quite a bit. It's only silence. Ashe shifts his weight to his other foot with a sigh, rolling his eyes.

"What's the problem with me being one? I'm sure I could bite it off."

"Sure about that?"

Ashe winces. "... Probably."

Wilardo lifts his shoulder in a half shrug in reply, not saying anything else. Ashe looks rather unamused, but steps closer to Wilardo, licking his fangs. His heart starts racing the closer he gets to Wilardo, feeling a rush of excitement. He pauses for a second to resist the urge to sink his fangs into Wilardo’s neck, clenching his fists at his side as he takes in a harsh breath. Legs and hands shaking, he leans over to the shorter werewolf, who only lowers his head slightly so that Ashe can reach.

Ashe’s body trembles as he forces his fangs under the collar and then abruptly jerks backwards. The collar quickly unclasps and breaks, falling to the ground. With a soft yelp Ashe steps back, his breaths quickening.

Bringing a finger up to his neck, Wilardo mumbles under his breath, glancing over at Ashe. "... Thanks." He moves his hand back to his pocket, watching Ashe with wary eyes.

Ashe turns his face away, threading a hand through his soft teal hair. "Sure, but any vampire at all could do that, likely." Hesitantly looking back at Wilardo, Ashe pauses before taking a few steps closer, unclasping his hoodie as he walks. "We're going home, so… put this on. It'll hide your ears and tail."

With gentle hands, Ashe clasped the cloak around Wilardo's neck, lifting the oversized hood over the werewolf's ears. Wilardo's ears flicked slightly before he looked up at Ashe, giving the vampire a distant look. "Alright.”

Ashe sighs as he starts walking, Wilardo trailing behind him. Pushing open the next door, he walks out into the dark, feeling the cold air blow against his pale skin. Looking up, he realized it was lightly drizzling, though the clouds looked dark grey and covered the sky, as if any moment now it could turn into a downpour.

Feeling the raindrops on his hair, Ashe looked around the dimly lit streets. He can smell it- one, two- no, four humans near him. Shuddering, Ashe bit down on his tongue, continuing his walk. Four, five humans. He passes by a group. It jumps up to nine. His head pounds. He can feel Wilardo’s gaze directly set on him, but neither of them speak up, and Ashe honestly prefers it that way.

_Seven to five to two to three._ That’s an elf and two more werewolves- one is a stray, the other is a pure. The elf must own them, probably wants to groom the stray into a pure- _three to six to five._ It’s the supernatural part of town, people rarely pass by on normal days, but tonight is a weekend and it’s late at night- teenagers must be passing through. _Five to four to two._ A group of fairies with a singular mermaid- likely playing a prank. His pace grows faster.

His heart lurches. The people are fading out, the creatures leave with them. An elf and a human are left, talking to each other, holding hands, close, maybe even in love. Yet that human has no clue just how taboo that relationship is to the elf’s heritage, has no clue that their partner will live on years without them, that they’ll just move on eventually. _What’s the point of that? Don’t you think it’s kind of cruel? Not only to others, but to yourself... starting a family with someone and watching your spouse and children die before you- doesn’t it hurt?_ His breathing is shallow.

_Two to zero._ His hands shake. He doesn’t realize how long he’s been walking- _how much time has passed?_ A crack of distant thunder wakes him up from his daze. His gold eyes drift up only for him to realize he’s standing in front of his nest. A quick worried look back at Wilardo confirms he didn’t attack anyone on the way- Ashe lets out a breath of relief. Reaching in his pocket and digging around for his keys, he pulls them out and hastily unlocks the door with shaky hands, before finally stepping inside.

“Here’s my nest!” Ashe flashes a forced smile, turning to face Wilardo. "Um, it's not much, but… make yourself at home, okay? Feel free to look around and everything. I'll be in the kitchen making dinner for now, but it might take a bit, so check in whenever." Ashe closed the door and locked it as he spoke. "Oh- and you can keep the cloak. It's yours now. Lastly, there are multiple rooms upstairs, so you can choose whichever one to stay in." With that, Ashe quickly hurried off, in an almost panicked way, leaving Wilardo standing there.

_< 3 </3_

Wilardo watched as his new odd vampire owner scurried off, seeming honestly unamused. _What's his problem? Not that I care all that much, but… can't believe I have to deal with this again._

Softly sighing as he brought the hood covering his ears down, Wilardo took a once-over of the nest. _Maybe I'll just leave. Wouldn't be hard to run off._ Shaking his head, he quietly started walking around the nest in exploration.

The shelves are empty- everything is neatly organized, books are sorted by genre. There are shelves and shelves of them. Wilardo brushes his fingers over the spines, but there's no dust on any of them. He chooses a book and takes it out of its place, flipping it open to a random page. _271._ The book itself still isn't dusty, and just like every other one, they look well kept, oddly so for the number of books Ashe seems to own. _Something about werewolves and hearts, huh?_ Wilardo doesn’t fully read the page, only taking a quick glance at it before he slides the book back in where it originally was, not caring much for books about his own species.

Wilardo contemplates his choices as he strolls past the shelf and makes his way up the stairs, putting his hands in his pockets. _Eh. I could always sit and watch how this goes, too._ A vase with roses in it catches his attention, temporarily breaking his thoughts. Drawing closer to the red flowers, Wilardo watched them with dark eyes, scanning them carefully.

_They seem well taken care of. I wonder if he likes gardening._ He pauses for a few seconds and then continues on his path, opening the first door he passes by.

Just a bathroom. He hesitantly steps in and flicks the light on, catching himself in the mirror. His ears straighten as he watches himself in the mirror. Under the cloak, his oversized red hoodie slid off his shoulder, showing the short sleeve black shirt underneath. The cloth is a bit damp, and he's maybe a bit tired looking.. very tired looking. _Yikes_ is the only thought that runs through his head, ruffling his messy hair slightly.

He looks down, and then turns the faucet on, not bothering to turn the water hot. Cupping his hands together, Wilardo closes his eyes and then splashes his face with cold water. He rubs his eyes before opening them again, turning the faucet off.

Giving himself another quick glance, Wilardo shrugs and walks out of the room, switching the light off and closing the door behind him. _Next room._

It's a guest bedroom. The colors are neutral and calm, mostly monochrome greys. There are some plants in the room, but that's it- barely no decoration, other than the bookshelves he constantly keeps seeing. _What does this guy do all day?_ Wilardo inches to the closet and creaks open the door.

It's empty, but there are still hangers. The werewolf blinks before taking off the cloak, hanging it up in the closet, though not bothering to reclose it. Wilardo steps back and then sits down on the bed, leaning back until he's fully lying down, splaying his arms out to the side. Stifling a yawn, he closed his eyes, thinking back to how he even got in this situation.

_Ah, auctions… he had been here three times before, but he was only bought once out of those times. The other two he managed to escape from, so he'd be able to escape this one just fine as well, but-_

_"Ten thousand."_

_Wilardo's eyes flicker up immediately to the person who just spoke, though his expression remains stoic, his head jerks in the direction of them. Both of his ears listen intently as he stands on the stage, watching the cloaked person with a look of distrust._

_He watches as they stand up and start walking towards him- great, just great. Maybe transforming near the city wasn't such a smart idea after all. Now he'll have to run away from another cocky owner who's probably only interested in grooming him to become a pure._

_And that cloaked person steps onto the stage, throws his payment, pivots and grabs onto his wrist harshly, pulling him along. Wilardo cringes silently, being forced to follow after. Yet when they reach outside in the empty hallway where no one else is, the cloaked person lets go, seeming much more gentle._

_"You can talk," comments his new 'owner', his voice oddly calm and kind- the complete opposite of what Wilardo expected. "I don't mind whatever you say."_

_And without fully thinking about his question, it comes out before he can stop. "Why did you spend that much money on me?"_

_The stranger stays silent for a moment. A beat of quiet. He speaks up in a calm tone- "And why do you care?"_

_It's then that Wilardo recognizes is isn't just any regular owner on his hands._

_"... Eh?"_

  
  


_< 3 </3_

  
  


Ashe digs through his cupboard, pushing bottles aside. _That one's still aging,_ he takes the neon pink potion bottle and sets it on the counter, sliding it away. _I need to put it somewhere colder, probably in the fridge…_ He grabs the jar of mermaid scales from the cupboard, bringing it down and pushing it next to the pink bottle. _And I need to add a scale into that to help it age, oh, plus…_

Reaching for something in the back, Ashe digs around again for a moment or two before pulling out a vial of phoenix tears. _These are important, what was that one book again? Phoenixes are so closely related to immortality and resurrection, I should do more studies on them later…_

Ashe popped the lid of the jar holding the mermaid scales off before taking out a singular scale, placing it down. He screws the lid back on and places it back, closing the cupboard door after. Ashe grabs the vial of tears and opens a drawer, carefully placing the vial down and closing it. Ashe grabs onto the potion bottle with the bright liquid inside and takes the cork out, grabbing onto the mermaid scale and popping it in.

He shoves the cork back in and holds up the bottle, watching the liquid slowly fizz. With a light shake and swirl of the bottle, the liquid inside turns red. A smile appears on Ashe's face as he whirls around, opening the fridge and placing the bottle one of the side shelves. _Ah, now, dinner… I’m sure Wilardo hasn't had a real meal in a while, so it should be something easy, but also something that'll help him recover, since the full moon was just roughly two days ago…_

Ashe's eyes light up with an idea, his smile growing. _Ooh, a beef stew could work as long as I'm easy on what's in it! I should probably even add some red wine, oh, and I wonder if there's any rosemary left?_ Ashe absent-mindedly searches the spice drawer as he thinks. _It should be a dry red wine… do I still have all those onions?_

It's a process that's become overly simple to him. _Beef, flour, onion powder, salt._ He's done it for years now, so of course it is. _Oil on medium heat._ But maybe it's because he wants to pretend he's human, that he's normal- he tries to keep living on without attacking anyone, without taking blood. _Beef to the oil, flip it every two minutes until softly brown on every side._ It takes a toll on him, though he loathes admitting it.

There are rare days spent where he can't even get out of bed at all for anything other than dinner. His head throbs and aches, his body shakes and he feels sick. His pale skin gets clammy, flushed and hot to the touch, his breathing is labored and pained. Most days, though, he continues on like normal, because really, he's fine. It's just a little inconvenience. _Gotta cut the onion and celery real quick…_

Ashe blinks tiredly, his eyes starting to sting. Today is maybe one of the worse days, but he's fine. Really. _Add the diced onion and celery to the beef and oil, keep mixing for three minutes…_ A yawn escapes his mouth as he rubs his eyes with his free hand.

At some point, he blanks out.

He's not sure when exactly it started because when he comes back to his senses again, he's sitting there with dinner prepared.

Shakily, Ashe presses a hand to his head, ignoring the uncomfortably warm feeling. He lowers his arm and sticks his head out of the kitchen, yelling out for Wilardo. "Dinner's readyy!" called the vampire, his voice ringing out in the empty nest.

Ashe took a moment to prepare Wilardo a bowl and then placed it down on the table, along with a spoon. He sat down with his own bowl, now just waiting for Wilardo.

The werewolf came into the room shortly after, now without his cloak. He eyed Ashe curiously and then took a seat, looking down at his food. "... Thanks."

Ashe smiles weakly. "Really, it's not much. I just cook for myself everyday, so…"

"You don't feed?"

Any flush or color left in Ashe's face drained with Wilardo's question. "I… don't. And I don't plan on ever doing it."

Wilardo shrugs and starts eating, though continuing the conversation with a delayed response. "Never done it before?" He places his other hand in his pocket, leaning forward and popping the spoon of broth into his mouth.

Ashe looks down at his food, stirring it with his spoon awkwardly, reluctant to start eating with the current conversation going on. "Well, I…”

"... How old are you?"

"Twenty-seven."

"Through all twenty-seven years of your life you've never fed on someone else's blood?" asked Wilardo, glancing down and continuing to eat his food.

_Why do you have to ask it so bluntly?_ "Well- I did, once, but... I don't want to again."

Wilardo gives him a dubious look, but doesn't elaborate, instead going quiet.

The rest of dinner is awkward and silent after that.

  
  


_< 3 </3_

  
  


It’s late. Ashe knows it’s late.

The lights are dim, it’s storming outside now. Wilardo’s already gone to sleep. The raindrops are pattering loudly against his windows, though they're covered up by curtains. There’s a distant roll of thunder, yet he doesn’t pay it any mind, pulling out books from their shelves. He clutches them carefully in his arms before he hastily walks upstairs to his room and over to his desk, dropping the books onto the top of the wooden surface.

Ashe mutters to himself as he skims through the pages of different old books. “Werewolves, werewolves, werewolves…” He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, but his fingers flip the pages anyway without much thought, gold eyes looking for _something,_ though he still hasn’t figured out just what he’s searching for.

He stops at a page- _271,_ he thinks, blinking in surprise as his breath hitches. _Werewolf’s Heart_ reads the top of the page, with a drawing of a bloody heart below to illustrate. An interested look crosses his face as he reads, his heart beating just a little bit faster than usual.

_Werewolves are magical creatures. Though strays and pures are different, they share the same base of magic in their blood, and that magic is tied to the moon. The full moon draws out the magic energy of a werewolf, which is their cause for transformation every full moon._

_Despite this, werewolves are not the only ones affected by the full moon- there are other supernatural creatures, as well as plants and flora which bloom only during the full moon. The blood of another creature which is affected by the full moon or certain parts of a flower that blooms during the full moon can also be used to groom a stray into a pure if used in potions._

_However, the most fascinating thing the magic of a werewolf holds is the Werewolf’s Heart. While some call it nonsense, some dare to even call it a legendary treasure. Not many people have gained a Werewolf’s Heart, as most don’t live to tell the tale. The Werewolf’s Heart is not easily acquired._

_In order to gain a Werewolf’s Heart, you must kill and rip out the heart of a stray groomed into a pure during the time when the full moon is at its peak- when the werewolf is most dangerous. You must also give the werewolf a hare’s moon potion during the day to fully draw out all of the magic energy that the werewolf has in its blood._

_Once one gains the Werewolf’s Heart, it can be used for a plethora of things. The most important thing, though, is that it’s rumored the Werewolf’s Heart can grant any wish on the next full moon if preserved._

He quietly closes the book, biting his lip as he sets it back down on the desk, staring at it. A singular thought crosses his mind.

_Lose if you worry._

His hand reaches over and turns his lamp off, leaving him sitting alone in the dark, only with his thoughts left, the ones he wants to avoid, _I don’t want to do that, I don’t want to do that…_

_Lose if you hesitate._

And then, only then, with wide eyes and quick, panicked breaths, with thoughts running through his head that he just can’t ignore, with the faint smell of smoke choking him and the taste of coagulated blood on his tongue, with his ears ringing and his head throbbing, with a feeling of light dizziness and his vision fading black, does Ashe finally, finally realize just what truly makes Wilardo special.

_My wish…_

Ashe realizes only just a little too late that he's passing out.


End file.
